Monday, November 30, 2015

It hurts enough now

I finally made an appointment with an allergist.  I am afraid.

I am afraid of what he will tell me.

I am afraid that it's going to be dogs and cats and rats and rabbits and mold and dust and pollen and the six things I can be bothered to eat.

I am afraid that my only recourse will be to not be around those things.

I can get rid of the wretched carpet and probably encase my bed in one of those dust-mite bags, but I sleep with a dirty Swiffer that I call Trixie.  I don't know how I'd get her out of my bedroom without utterly destroying her emotionally.  She already has a hard time during the 8 hours a day I'm at work. She is physically in contact with me most of the time I am home.  She's clingy.

Zip is less filthy, but still filthy.  Fortunately, he is only on me for an hour or so a day.

My entire workplace is an allergen.

Maybe I can get the shots?

Wednesday, November 4, 2015


I'm a pretty hardcore skin picker.

My skin is not terrible.  It was once, and I took Accutane to deal with it, but now my skin issues are mostly in my head.  Intellectually, I know that the slight darkness of a pore is just a sebaceous filament, and that they belong there, and that going after them with fingernails and implements will only make a hole in my face....

The satisfaction of seeing that little seed thingy pop out of the pore is REALLY soothing.  Even though it makes me bleed and scab and scar.  I'm sure there's some deep psychological reason I find that pleasant.

I finally hid my blackhead extractor in a drawer far from my bathroom.  I didn't throw it away, because sometimes that's the only way to get a furious zit that's in a funny spot, but I now have to walk to another room to retrieve it.  I have to acknowledge that yes, I am about to do damage to myself to unearth something nobody else can see, much less care about.

I haven't dug at my skin for three days.

I wonder how long it takes for all the wounds to heal?